


i really think that we could make it, boy

by aunaree



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Chaotic Proposals, Corey and Lydia are Done with Their Boyfriends, Did I Already Mention Stiles is a Very Passionate Event Organizer, Everybody is Basically Confused, Flat Tires and Not-So Failed Plans, How to Make Theo Raeken Soft 101 by Liam Dunbar, Impromptu Memories Lead to Impromptu Proposals, Liam Panics at the Sight of Black Boxes, Liam is a Cultured Romance Savvy, M/M, Mason Hewitt versus Stiles Stilinski, Post-Canon, Red Sharpies and Five-Year Calendars, Stiles is a Very Passionate Event Organizer, Theo Failed His Test for a Romantic License, Theo Raeken and Barter-Trading, Theo and Liam as Mitch and Cam, When I Say This is Chaotic I Really Mean It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:22:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28427742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aunaree/pseuds/aunaree
Summary: Theo is planning to propose, but Liam is planning the same thing. On the same day. Chaos ensues.(Theo and Liam, except they're sort-of-a werewolf knockoff of Mitch and Cam from Modern Family.)--Mason asks, because he’sthoroughlyconfused, “What are you guys doing here?”“What areyouguys doing here?” Stiles shoots back in an equal amount of confusion.“Is that…” Corey’s eyeing the balloon tied around Stiles’ wrist. “…a ‘marry me’ balloon? Did Liam ask for your help, too?”Stiles jerks his head back. “What do you mean Liam asked for our help?”Mason advances a step. “Liam’s proposing to Theo.”“No,”Lydia snaps, her perplexed expression growing deeper as she pointedly corrects Mason. “Theois proposing toLiam.”There’s a short silence that comes down in the room, the four blinking at each other as the gears in their minds begin to turn, clicking, before Lydia erupts, “Oh my god,those two!” the same time Stiles says, “Well, folks, may the best proposal win.”
Relationships: Liam Dunbar/Theo Raeken
Comments: 18
Kudos: 59





	i really think that we could make it, boy

**Author's Note:**

> Highly based from Season 5 Episode 1 of Modern Family, a.k.a the skeleton of this fic, basically. So if you've watched the show, this is a Theo-and-Liam version of that episode (which is, personally, one of my favorites).
> 
> I really wanted to keep this light in line with the spirit of the holidays, so when I say they're all a chaotic mess here, I really mean it in (hopefully) the best way possible. I hope you enjoy! ♡

_Dreams, they’re for those who sleep_

_Life, it’s for us to keep_

_And if you’re wondering what this song is leading to_

_I want to make it with you._

_(David Gates, Make It With You, 1970)_

“We have this ultimatum thing,” Liam says, pacing back and forth around the Dunbar-Geyer living room, eyes on his tablet as he scrolls through Yelp for five-star restaurants and completely oblivious of Mason’s exasperation from Liam’s ping-pong strides. “Remember when we fought off those final batch of hunters years ago, before we set off for college? We kinda made this deal,” Liam gestures a hand, and Mason rolls his eyes as he slumps more on the couch, Corey beside him tapping his thigh with a sheepish smile, “well, actually, there’s some hint of humor to it but I wanted to take it seriously.” Liam halts by the coffee table, gaze still locked on the tablet—reading a review—and other hand on his mouth as he nips on his nails and continues his _story_ all at the same time. “We said if by five years we make it through and stay alive, we’ll get married.”

“Oh my _god_ ,” Mason laughs, looking so amused that he pulls away from being slumped on the couch to gape at Liam. “You guys really are _that_ couple.”

Liam looks at him with a frown. “What does that mean?”

“He _means_ ,” Corey butts in, placing what Liam can tell is a firm grip on Mason’s knee, “that are you really sure about this? Like, a hundred percent? Yesterday you probably hadn’t thought of marrying him until you recalled an impulsive memory of a joke you guys made back when we were like _eighteen_.”

Liam thinks Corey’s right about the impulsive memory part: when Liam woke up this morning, Theo was already dressed up for his day with Lydia and carrying a ridiculous amount of energy, considering they had just arrived back in Beacon Hills for the holidays. “How are you not tired?” Liam asked him, voice still hoarse from sleep, referring to their butt-clenching flight on the plane the night before and _the_ sex when they had arrived at Liam’s old home—because his parents are still away for Dr. Geyer’s medical conference in Seattle—but Theo only gave him a swift kiss and said, “Because I’m not. Lydia’s here, I’ll see you later. Enjoy your afternoon with Mason.” Liam spent a good few minutes in his bed, staring at his old five-year calendar plastered on the wall with chipping corners, thinking, _Saturday, just a normal Saturday, why the hell is today’s date encircled?_ Until a distant memory pinged a lightbulb in his head and he bolted upright, screaming, _I remember!_

So, yes, impulsive reminiscence, but Liam grins. “I think about marrying him everyday.”

Mason groans and Corey huffs out a laugh.

“So, you’re sure?” Mason raises a challenging brow. “And ready, despite only having graduated college months ago, not to mention the _amount_ of legal paperwork before and after your I do’s…”

“ _Yes_ ,” Liam confirms firmly without the slightest hint of panic at the thought of it all, and repeats, “yes. So please, help me find a place. _Guys_ , this is the perfect moment.”

“Fine,” Mason sighs and hands out his palm, wiggling his fingers. Liam hands him the tablet with utter glee and watches as Mason starts swiping on the screen. “Does it really have to be a five-star though? And why not just here in Beacon Hills, isn’t this place more, like, memorable?”

“Because—” Liam starts but stops himself, his eyes going unfocused as another _impulsive memory_ reels in. He perks up. “Wait! The diner by the edge of town. Our go-to place. It’s nothing fancy, but … it means something.”

Mason raises his hands in defeat, locking the tablet and sliding it over the table, no longer of use. “Problem solved.”

Corey hums thoughtfully. “That’s nice. I think it’ll be perfect.”

“What about the ring?” Mason asks.

Liam shrugs. “I want it to be Mom’s ring, it’s the Dunbar clan heirloom. I’ll have to call her later and ask where she keeps it.”

Liam ignores the way Corey’s shoulders hunch up.

“ _The_ heirloom?” Mason gasps. “God, you really…” Liam smiles at his best friend, knowingly and honest, the two of them all too aware just how valuable the Dunbar ring is, and after a beat Mason grins back cheerfully, Liam’s chest constricting at Mason’s ecstatic scent and twinkling eyes like some sort of approval to someone _vital_ to him next to his parents. Then he adds, teasing, “Is he even going to remember your _special_ _day_?”

Liam _smirks_. “I’ll make him remember when I get down on one knee.”

“Unless,” Corey chirps, “he _actually_ remembers and wants to pop the question himself.”

“Oh, please,” Liam scoffs. “It’s _Theo_. There is not enough romantic blood running in his veins.” Then, he points to himself with his thumb, flashing his friends a smug grin. “I am the romantic one in this relationship, and I’m betting on my vintage collection, I’ll make him cry.”

*

“It’s _Liam_ ,” Theo retorts, to which Lydia laughs and mutters _fair_ _enough_ , the two of them occasionally sidestepping to avoid shoulder-bumps with the throng of passersby on the sidewalk, “he’s already forgetting about the laundry five minutes after starting up the washing machine. Happened _three times_. So…”

Theo shrugs, and he’s wearing a ghost of a smile anyway as he tells it, remembering the kicked puppy look on Liam’s face every time Theo _scolds_ him for their moldy clothes, accompanied by Liam’s distracted-by-history-channel excuse or mind too caught up with his heavy load of college work, that in which Theo understands, because when it comes to his degree Liam has the tendency to be hard on himself. Theo decided he’s on laundry duty after the third time.

“What more to an adrenaline-driven deal we’ve made in a life-and-death situation,” Theo says and catches the bemused expression on Lydia’s face.

“You might be underestimating Liam a bit there,” Lydia comments in jest, though her gaze is locked at someone from the other end of the street.

Stiles is standing outside an empty coffee shop where Lydia had parked her car, obnoxiously flailing his arms in the air to get their attention. Unlike Theo’s long sleeves and slacks and Lydia’s pencil-cut skirt from the seminar they had just attended, Stiles is in a casual cotton-knit sweater and khaki trousers with a messenger bag over his torso and prescription glasses perched on his nose, and Theo overhears Lydia muttering _like a news station intern_ under her breath.

Theo’s gaze is on Stiles absently as they approach him, but Lydia’s is judging as she winces. Then, she turns back to Theo, the humor in her expression slipping back after her brief secondhand embarrassment. “Remind me again, between the two of you, who’s more into romantic endeavors, hm?”

“ _Exactly_.” Theo’s lips quirk up into a boastful smirk, and he can’t help the wave of pride swelling in his chest. “Which is why he’ll never see this coming.”

“All right, Prince Charming. Tell us your plan,” Lydia says after a roll of an eye as they both make a stop in front of Stiles.

Theo raises a brow at “us”, and it turns into a glare when the first thing Stiles says when they approach is, “I want to see the ring.”

Lydia flashes Theo a sheepish smile. “I’m sorry. I _had_ to tell him right after you told me.” When Theo sighs and looks up at the sky in exasperation, Lydia scoffs, “Hey! You can’t blame me for getting excited.”

“Wait,” Stiles butts in after a loud slurp on his iced coffee, looking at Theo _incredulously_ , “you asked for _her_ help? Dude, I helped Scott propose to Malia. I am the expert here.”

“I didn’t exactly ask for help.” Then, as Theo recalls his idea in his mind, he puts a hand at the back of his neck and ducks his head away from their expectant looks. He’s glad none of them can discern chemosignals, otherwise they’d easily pick up his _shame_. “I … just needed an opinion.”

“All right.” Stiles shifts his weight into a stance that’s ready to _listen_ , and Theo feels himself sinking back more. He shouldn’t have been cocky. “Lay it down, buddy. What’s the plan?”

Theo narrows his eyes, and he’s not really curious, but he’s trying to drag it out. “Don’t you two have a date?”

“Well,” Lydia steals Stiles’ coffee and takes one sip, shrugs, “we’ve got time.”

Theo looks away, clenching his jaw, and when he turns back to the two of them he puts his hands on his hips to _brace_ himself. Their brows raise higher, and Theo decides, _fine_ , he’ll blurt out his not-so ingenious plan right in the middle of the sidewalk.

“Liam’s parents won’t be home until the morning of Christmas Eve, so … the house is all ours tonight. He really likes it when I cook, so I’m just thinking … cook something for him. Dinner date at home. Then, I … put the ring in his dessert or something.”

Stiles and Lydia blink at him. Theo’s just opening his mouth, ready to quit his role as a romance savvy before he could even start, when Stiles responds with what Theo _knows_ is a poor attempt to rip the band-aid off. Not that the man’s heartbeat isn’t an indication.

“Well, it is…” Stiles’ face scrunches into a faux deep thought, and Lydia’s nodding along exaggeratedly, her eyes widely open it’s comical. “It is romantic…”

Theo rolls his eyes. “Oh my _god_ , just say it. I can hear your heartbeat.”

“It sucks,” Stiles bluntly declares. “I feel like you clicked on the first Google result when you searched up proposal ideas. It’s trite, and it probably works on others, but with the two of you?” Stiles begins gesturing in jazz hands, and at that Theo accepts his defeat. “First of all: Liam is a werewolf. You guys don’t eat dessert, you _inhale_ it. The ring will already be down his stomach before he could even _bite_ at it. Second, Liam staged a scavenger hunt on your third anniversary with him as the _prize._ And he burned himself a hundred times to concoct a supernatural perfume with your mixed scents as one of the ingredients for your birthday. I’m not saying you should go to the same extent, but buddy, if your _goal_ is to beat your own boyfriend at being romantic, I say making him eat the ring is not a good first step.”

“I didn’t exactly mean _beat_ him in it…” Theo drawls and hears the lie in his own heartbeat.

“ _Honey_ ,” Lydia deadpans to Theo. “Give it up. Your cockiness one minute ago has no hopes for salvaging.”

The silence right after takes a second or two before Theo palms his face and erupts into a _loud_ groan that a passerby flashes him a weird look. As much as he doesn’t want to be too transparent with his frustration, he _can’t_ help it. The tip of his fingers itch from his threatening claws because for the quickest moment he wants to scratch his face off—his whole being _now_ —and return to strutting around as the Chimera of Death who doesn’t worry about _romance_.

Liam really is rubbing off on him; from being a sap to carrying violent thoughts (he certainly had been carrying them before, but those had been with the intentions of _actually_ doing it, so).

“You know what, it’s not so much of a bad idea,” Lydia reassures without a tick in her heartbeat, so Theo brings his hands down to put his attention back on her because apparently it’s _not so much of a bad idea_ and she’s being honest, and Theo would like to hear more. “Proposing at home, I mean. Like yeah, simple dinner, and it doesn’t top off Liam’s romantic endeavor. But that’s _you_. And that’s _Liam._ That’s how the two of you are. I’m sure he’ll appreciate it even if you propose in a trash bag—”

“Okay, _no._ Don’t shower him with cookie cutter, Lydia.” Stiles steps in, his hands cutting through the air and pointedly dismissing Lydia’s _soothing_ words. “You know what, you and I—” he points to Lydia and then to himself “—we can have that date another time. We’re going to help Raeken here pull off this goddamn proposal. Fine, you can have it at his home if you want a touch of Theo Raeken’s _simplicity_ , but at least let us help you handle the decorations.”

Theo squints his eyes. “You’re going to use those balloons and fairy lights Scott didn’t want you to put up when he proposed to Malia, aren’t you?”

Stiles opens his mouth, then closes, and does another jazz hands. “For the record, _Liam_ himself was one of the people there who said what a waste it was because it looked, and I quote, ‘ _really nice’_.”

Theo’s mind is going fuzzy. He finds himself playing with his left hand’s ring finger where he had tried on the ring last night when Liam was worn-out and asleep to check if there will be a need for adjustments, because he’s _sure_ his fingers are a thread near to Liam’s size. He told Jenna the same thing days ago when he called her and Dr. Geyer through video call to ask for their permission, because Theo knows how much they—and family in general—mean to Liam, and it’d only feel right to do so. Corey suggested it, too. Jenna told him about the heirloom ring, about where she kept it, so Theo made sure to book a flight back to Beacon Hills a week before Christmas Eve, which also happens to be the day before the mark of their five-year “deal” to retrieve the ring from Jenna’s accessory box. It’d be suspicious, Theo knew that, but one call at Lydia and she managed to pull the strings and send a pharmaceutical company to set up a seminar in Beacon Hills. “There’s one on the day of the proposal,” Lydia told him. “It’s perfect, right? He won’t suspect you have any other plans for the day if you’re gonna appear _busy_.”

“Look.” Lydia pulls him out of his rumination when she clamps a firm hold on his shoulders and peers at him solidly. Theo _lets_ her see his worry. “It’s going to be fine.” She palms his cheek. “I know you’re going to aim for perfect, but … you and Liam?” she chuckles. “You know what I mean. However it goes, I know one thing for sure. By the end of this day, that ring will be on Liam’s finger.”

Theo closes his eyes and presses against the grounding warmth of Lydia’s palm, briefly remembers Tara, the touch of a sister, _family_ , and nods.

“But…” When Theo opens his eyes, Stiles is eyeing him with pursed lips. He glances once at Lydia and then back to him. Lydia lets go of Theo’s cheek and raises a brow at Stiles. “…we’re still doing the decorations, right?”

Theo laughs, basking in the swell of a stomach-churning excitement rising over him. “Yes, Stiles. We’re doing the decorations.”

Theo makes a mental note to call Corey, have him and Mason keep Liam out of the house as long as possible to give Stiles and Lydia and him time to decorate, and he makes sure to keep Stiles’ advice in his head: _just ask him, no need to eat rings, okay?_

“All right, we’ll pick up the decorations and head there in a few hours,” Lydia says as she pulls away from their farewell hug. “You sure you don’t want us to drop you off back?”

“It’s okay, I can just walk back. And—” Theo points at the coffee shop with his thumb. He continues to tell Lydia of his plans as he turns to Stiles for the hug. “—I just need to make a few calls. And maybe have some dessert. Please do go on with your date.”

Lydia chuckles amusedly, and there’s something achingly warm in Theo’s chest as he sees Lydia’s beaming grin over Stiles’ shoulder, and Stiles patting his back twice.

“Oh, hold on.” Stiles reaches for his— _news station intern_ , as Lydia called it—messenger bag and pulls out a familiar black box. “Derek asked me to hand this to Liam, but since you’re already here…”

 _Oh,_ Theo realizes as he takes it and pulls the lid open. The sunlight glows brightly against the face of the wristwatch, and Theo tilts the box away from the stream to see the clock’s hands. They’re ticking.

“It’s fixed,” Theo says. “It’s the vintage watch I gave him for his birthday last year.”

“Sweet,” Stiles whistles, and then wraps an arm around Lydia to pull her closer to his side. “Anyways, we should probably head off. Lydia and I still have to scheme the perfect proposal setup that will make Liam Dunbar _weep._ ”

Theo doubts it, but he laughs at the thought anyway, watching Stiles and Lydia walk off to Lydia’s car. Their fingers are entwined, arms swinging and sauntering in a lax manner that makes their shoulders bump like opposite poles; a force helplessly drawn to a light. Theo wonders if this is exactly what they see of him and Liam. He _knows_ it’s what he feels.

He takes one last look at the watch before pushing the lid back close with a thump and heading inside the coffee shop.

*

“Okay, Mrs. Dela Rosa remembers me, the diner’s good.” Liam flashes his phone a toothy grin, but it falters when he opens up a text from his mother. “Wait, what? Mom said she took the ring to Nana’s when we flew there for her birthday _months_ ago. She had always kept that with her.”

“Maybe she decided to change its storage?” It’s Corey who says it, which in a normal occasion Liam would _question_ his sudden interest to voice out an opinion over what can be considered as trivial to the chimera—it’s Mason who usually vocalizes his thoughts about any Liam-dilemmas, no matter how small or petty it could be—but Liam’s too busy typing back a reply to his mother, subtly demanding a good enough reason to tuck the ring back miles away.

 _Sweetie,_ his mother texts back, _I’m sure Theo won’t mind a no-ring proposal if this specific day truly matters to the both of you._

“Oh _no!_ ” Liam wails and collapses on the tiny space between Corey and Mason on the couch, which means both Corey and Mason have to adjust and scoot over and Mason has to instinctively clutch the bag of Lays in his lap to prevent it from spilling. Liam settles in the middle of the couple, rests his head against the back of the couch, and glowers at the ceiling. “No ring. What am I supposed to do?”

Liam feels Corey shift beside him.

“Ask him anyway,” Mason says through a mouthful of chips. “Unless there’s another special date you want to do this.”

“It really has to be _now._ I want it to be today,” Liam mumbles, and he only knows his scent is starting to reek of distraught when Corey nudges his shoulder.

“Hey, you never know. Things might work out still. Ring or no ring.”

“My boyfriend’s right, knowing you and Theo.” Mason grins, propping one elbow at the back of the couch and twisting his body towards Liam. Liam doesn’t say anything, just grabs the bag of Lays from Mason’s lap with a loud crackle and starts filling his mouth with chips. “Look, this is kind of the outcome of impromptu decisions, Liam. Planned decisions still have blips ninety-nine percent of the time, let alone an impulsive one.”

“The impulsive _high_ is wearing off,” Liam says after swallowing with a loud _gulp_. “But I still want to do it.”

Mason nor Corey don’t get to have another say anymore, because the loud blaring of a ringtone erupts around the room. Liam holds up his phone, and his eyes nearly bulge out of its sockets when he sees Theo’s name on the screen. Corey manages to catch the bag of chips when Liam jerks forward in an alarming speed.

“It’s _Theo!_ ” Liam _screeches_.

“You’re panicking,” Mason points out, _panicking_ himself, and sputters out, “don’t act too excited, Liam. I _know_ you.”

“Okay, okay.” Liam presses the bridge of his nose and takes a deep breath. “You two, don’t talk.”

 _Don’t act too excited,_ Liam thinks, and when he presses the answer button he says it in the best monotone voice he can muster, “What?”

From his peripheral, Mason facepalms.

“Are you still at home?” is the first thing Theo says, and it’s enough to send another wave of panic in Liam’s gut.

“Why?” Liam asks back in a biting tone, and he _knows_ it’s excessively obvious that he can already picture the frown on Theo’s face.

“Well, uh, I kinda need your help here—” Theo begins, but Mason and Corey are both gesturing _wildly_ and Liam has no single fucking clue of what they’re trying to say, so he blurts out:

“Actually, I’m with Mason already.”

Both Mason and Corey slump back on the couch.

“Ah, shit,” Theo curses to himself, then in a normal voice: “You guys far? You think you can head down to that new coffee shop three blocks far from your house?”

Liam frowns. “What? I thought you’re in that pharmaceutical firm’s seminar with Lydia?”

“It finished early, Lydia went to meet up with Stiles, and I wanted to eat my lunch here. Anyways, I forgot to bring cash with me and their POS system is down. There’s no close ATM machine around—”

“ _Fine_ ,” Liam hisses in faux irritation, and he squeezes his eyes shut at hearing himself. Sometimes he’d pull off an unreasonable attitude because Theo’s _rarely_ affectionate and sweet, and Liam understands exactly the reason why, considering his past, but an angry, irritated Liam tends to bring out the softness in Theo (peppering him with kisses, incredibly good back rubs, breathless snuggling). Sometimes, Liam just needs to ask. But sometimes, Liam goes overboard that when it’s _completely_ illogical, it irritates Theo back. Liam _prays_ this isn’t one of those times as he continues to say, “Whatever. I’ll go there.”

“What? Liam if you don’t want—”

Liam hangs up.

It’s Corey who facepalms this time.

Mason’s mouth is wide open, and he’s blubbering like a fish, trying to say _something_.

“ _What?”_ Liam shrieks. “I panicked! And you told me not to get too excited!”

“ _Yes_ ,” Mason shrieks back, “I didn’t tell you to be _rude_!”

But when Liam gets there, he ends up fleeing. He’s on the other side of the street where the coffee shop stood, but from the short distance he can recognize Theo’s figure if not for his scent, the man’s back facing him as he’s seated on one of the booths near the glass wall, but it’s not Theo himself that sends Liam reeling back and halting himself from crossing the street.

It’s the object sitting on Theo’s table beside his plate that comes into view when Theo shifts in his seat, head ducked down and clearly on his phone. A black _box_.

Liam dials Mason.

“The little shit,” Liam hisses on the phone. “He’s going to _propose_!”

“Wait, are you serious?” Mason squeaks, and in a faint voice, Liam overhears Corey’s _in a coffee shop_? Mason echoes: “In a coffee shop?”

Liam feels his heart racing, _he remembers_ , a surge of euphoria coming down on him, and there’s a lovesick grin on his face as he says, “I—I don’t know. It seems like a cute place though.” Liam doesn’t really give a shit about the place, but he decides it’s _cute_ enough anyway, with a line of red and green Christmas lights adorning the edge of the roof of the shop, a large Santa cardboard cutout by the door holding the shop’s special holiday promo, the snowflakes and snow ornaments dotting the walls and ceilings, and the staff idling around in bright red Christmas hats.

And he just _accepts_ it, because _he remembers_ , and it doesn’t say one thing. It’s _everything_. He’s filled with the sudden urge to barge inside, scream _yes, yes, yes_ with no plans to wait for Theo to ask, but he fights back, pushes it back down the cage, because Mason says:

“But you already had the _entire diner_ reserved.”

Liam feels like he’s been given a new set of rattle toys only to be snatched back in an instant, like a teasing, blinding glow at the end of a tunnel zapping out in a swift.

“Shit,” Liam says. “I’ll call you back.”

It’s Theo he calls next, and he watches Theo putting his phone against his ear, answering his call and tilting his head to the side. He looks around like he already knows Liam’s just _there_.

“Liam, are you—”

“Sorry!” Liam _shouts_ , and then he clears his throat, mouthing an apology to the mother of the baby inside the crib he’s crouching against to _hide_. “I’m sorry, I can’t actually go. Mason had an emergency with his, uh, pies. Gotta help. _Bye._ ”

“ _Liam_ —”

There’s a shiver on Liam’s spine; Theo’s _really_ pissed off this time. The mother shoots him a glare like he’s an asshole who just ditched his date, and Liam doesn’t have anything else to offer but another apologetic smile before he sprints out of the street and rushes to his car.

Liam thinks it’d be great—for Theo to get down on one knee. Doesn’t matter where they are. He could propose in the middle of a goddamn hunter-versus-supernatural war for all he cares. They almost did, if it hadn’t been engraved at the back of their minds that they were still _young_ despite being on the brink of death, so it’d been shaped into their casual humored remark. He remembers his own labored breathing, leaning against a fallen debris huge enough to hide both him and Theo, as he declared a romantic truth disguised as a joke, _God, this never ends, does it?_ Liam said, _tell you what, if we make it through all these supernatural shit in five years, I’ll marry you,_ and Theo said, _five years, huh?_ and he said, _deal._ Liam grinned, nodding, _deal._

 _Stay alive,_ Theo said. _Stay alive,_ Liam echoed.

But right now, practicality is at its finest, and Liam knows Mrs. Dela Rosa as one of the most generous woman in town, but she’s also one of the sharpest and the scariest to mess with. The last time he’s seen her, which was exactly five years ago, she was chasing down a burglar with a butcher knife. Liam imagines himself the one being pursued down the street once he tells the 50-year-old woman that she’s just given a night of her diner in Liam’s hands only for it to be cancelled. She won’t give a shit even if he bares his fangs and claws—that’d probably trigger her more to swing the butcher knife at a great distance and land a crack in the middle of Liam’s head.

Liam winces, hears Theo’s _you’re ridiculous_ every time Liam voices out the most absurd things going on in his head.

He decides to push through with his plan.

*

Theo hears the bell from the tip of a Christmas hat.

The waitress comes over again after Theo drops his call like she knew exactly what it had been for, probably lingering around in the counter and anticipating for the perfect moment.

“You ready to get the bill, sir?” she asks without any effort to hide her annoyance, one hand on a cocked-out hip, and her bored eyelids are caked with a purple eyeshadow.

Theo smiles up at her too wide he’s afraid it’d reach his ear, and behind the smile is his gritting teeth. Inside his head, he’s already thinking of what to do with Liam—go on with the proposal, make him think everything’s fine just because they got engaged, and then remind him after slipping the ring on his finger about the ridiculous stunt he’d pulled this afternoon. Maybe tie his wrists on the headboard of Liam’s old creaky bed and drag him out for _hours_.

“Well, _Lisa_ ,” Theo mentions the name of the waitress he’d caught from her nametag, because he hopes addressing her name would at least soften the blow a little bit.

He’s positive his charm won’t work, and he’s positive _this_ won’t either, but because he’s cursing at Liam internally in all the languages he knows and he’s still _seething_ , he slowly pushes the box of the vintage watch across the table, picturing a whining Liam once Theo tells him his treasured wrist clock has been used in a barter. Theo feels satisfied with his own imagination.

He grins at Lila sheepishly. Lila’s annoyed, droopy eyes droop even more.

“You guys accepting vintage watches?”

*

“Liam, you big, big _idiot!_ ” Mason hisses on the phone, and he shrugs off Corey’s comforting hand on his shoulder. “Go back there and tell him my so-called-emergency is actually a false alarm! You know Theo, he’s just going to grow even more skeptical.”

“I know, I know—”

“Corey and I will handle everything, okay? All you have to do is bring him there. Distract him until we give you a call. _Liam._ ”

“Yes, yes! I know. I owe you a lot, like a _lot_ lot, okay? You’re the best, best friend in the world and I couldn’t ask for anything more—”

Mason snorts. “I get it, Liam. Go get your man.”

When Mason ends the call, he runs a hand through his face and exhales through a small-mouthed ‘o’ the same way he does when he nails a recitation in his Civil Procedure class.

“I swear to God, when it comes to Raeken, Liam’s brain shuts down like ninety-nine percent of the—” He stops short when he sees the grimace on Corey’s face. His brows meet. “What’s up with that look?”

Corey winces. “There’s … something you need to know.”

“Oh no,” Mason says, because _that_ look on Corey’s face only spells disaster.

“Look,” Corey sighs in clear frustration, and Mason is already aware of the gravity of the issue because Corey _rarely_ exudes frustration. “Theo made me promise not to tell, but since—” And it’s his turn to cut himself off when he jerks his head to the side, frown deepening. It’s his _I’m-sensing-something_ look. Mason asks him what’s wrong. “Someone’s coming.”

The knob of the front door jingles, and Mason doesn’t have to be equipped with supernatural senses to hear the familiar muffled voice from outside. _“Oh, yikes. Did Liam leave the door open?”_

Stiles and Lydia come barging in with arms full of paper bags, overflowing with rolled strings of fairy lights and white fake flowers and what seems to be alphabet decorations; the letters A and M in a hot pink color are poking out. On Stiles’ paper bag, there’s a rolled banner, and on his right wrist a thin thread is strapped around, its other end tied to a white balloon with a question engraved in a golden cursive.

The two halt at the sight of the other couple.

Mason asks, because he’s _thoroughly_ confused, “What are you guys doing here?”

“What are _you_ guys doing here?” Stiles shoots back in an equal amount of confusion.

“Is that…” Corey’s eyeing the balloon tied around Stiles’ wrist. “…a ‘marry me’ balloon? Did Liam ask for your help, too?”

Stiles jerks his head back. “What do you mean Liam asked for our help?”

Mason advances a step. “Liam’s proposing to Theo.”

“ _No_ ,” Lydia snaps, her perplexed expression growing deeper as she pointedly corrects Mason. “ _Theo_ is proposing to _Liam_.”

There’s a short silence that comes down in the room, the four blinking at each other as the gears in their minds begin to turn, clicking, before Lydia erupts, “Oh my god, _those two_!” the same time Stiles says, “Well, folks, may the best proposal win.”

It takes a beat for Mason to let Stiles’ words sink in, and he whips his head around to face him too hard there’s a sudden ache at a spot in his neck.

“No, no, no,” Mason wildly waves his hands, “Liam already booked the _entire_ Rosa’s Diner. There is absolutely no room for cancellation.”

“Listen—” Corey tugs on Mason’s sleeve, and Mason feels like he can almost sense the anxiousness coming off of Corey’s face. “Theo said he’s just planning to do it here so maybe I can tell him about the change of plans and we use Stiles’ decorations for the diner—”

Mason reels back, his mouth dropping wide open, and then he jabs a finger at Corey, _very_ much overwhelmed with betrayal. “You _knew_ Theo’s going to propose!”

“I didn’t know how to tell Liam, okay!” Corey screeches, and his shoulders hunch up to his ears, visibly conflicted. “I didn’t know how to tell either of them. Like, seriously, _how_? Liam found out anyway, I don’t know how, I just know coffee shop’s not Theo’s plan but—”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Stiles flails his balloon-tied arm, and when Mason and Corey both turn to face him, he continues, “can we go back to the part where you said you’ll be using _our_ decorations for Liam’s proposal? Because no can do, buddy. This is strictly for Theo’s proposal—” Stiles gestures his and Lydia’s paper-bag-filled arms with his finger “—all these? Exclusive for Team Theo. You guys are on your own.”

Mason blinks. Lydia raises a hand, over the enormous paper bag, to palm her face.

“You—I—” Mason stutters, and then he’s chuckling at the hilarity of it all, but his expression is non comical. “You do know only one of them is gonna go down on one knee right?” He ignores Corey’s _depends on the context._ He says, with the voice of a fighter, his smile slipping off, “And it’s going to be Liam.”

Stiles lowers down the paper bags to his chest, just so Mason can have a clear view of his face. Lydia hides some more in her hand and mutters _oh god_ , just as Stiles slowly advances towards Mason, juts his chin out in arrogance, gives Mason a once-over, and says, “We’ll see about that.”

For the hundredth time that day, Corey sighs in frustration.

*

Scott opens the door for Theo, and Theo thanks him with a smile, although it shifts into a grimace, still incredibly unsettled with calling him of all people to momentarily handle his bill.

“Scott, seriously, thanks a lot,” Theo says as he steps out of the coffee shop and quickly turns around to face Scott following after him. He locks his phone after the sound of his Venmo notification successfully transferring money and tucks it in his back pocket. “And sorry again for bothering you. I know it’s a busy day—”

“No, Theo. It’s okay, really.” Scott squeezes Theo’s shoulder, and his fabled dopey grin settles Theo’s shame a bit. “It’s a convenient route anyway. I have to pick Mom up from the hospital to do some late Christmas shopping.”

“Ah.” Theo’s lips quirk up into a small smile at the thought of Melissa. “How’s Malia, by the way? When’s her flight back from France?”

“Her holiday break doesn’t start until the twenty-first, so, probably the day before Christmas Eve.” Scott shrugs, his gaze unfocused, and there’s a beamy smile on his lips as his mind flies. “And then next year they’re gonna be travelling to Ireland.”

They both walk leisurely to the direction of Scott’s car, and something about the light air between them, surrounded by red and green and white Christmas decorations on the streets with the warm glow of the afternoon sun, gives a tug on Theo’s chest. They go slow and talk about mundane things like ordinary two friends catching up—something Theo had never thought he’ll ever have. Every year, he and Liam go back home to Beacon Hills during summer and holiday breaks like everybody else. There’ll be at least two to three pack reunions every year, and it’s something Theo’s slowly started getting used to, a new piece in his life that’s gradually clicking into place, but still he never fails to bask in it. Always, at the most random times, he’d take it all in. Breathe it in. Feel his muscles unclench and soften, chest warming.

“So.” Scott stops by his car, and the grin he flashes at Theo is filled with mirth and excitement. “You and Liam.”

“Liam and I,” Theo repeats, grinning just as wide. Scott tucks his hands into his pockets, and Theo follows the movement, sees the glint of silver band in Scott’s ring finger. Theo takes a deep breath, chuckling hoarsely, and admits, “I’m pretty nervous.”

“I get you.” Scott slaps Theo’s arm once, a firm, comforting grip. “Even if you’re a hundred percent sure he’ll say yes, it’s definitely nerve-wracking.” Scott subtly raises his left hand, absently stares at his ring. “More so when you’re in that aisle.” Then he looks back up at Theo, lips quirked up. “But it’s going to be worth it. If you know, you just feel it, in the deepest part of your—of all of you—” Scott chuckles “—that it’s really him, it’ll be worth it, Theo.”

Theo opens his mouth, throat drying up. He licks his lips, blinks at Scott, and says, “Yeah. Yeah, he is.”

It’s cut short when they both hear a faint yell from afar, and Theo slowly closes his eyes with a sigh as his mind travels back to his irritation, but deep within he knows, this time, it’s blended with fondness, like it always does.

“ _Theo!_ Oh god, Theo,” Liam pants behind him. “Thank god you’re still here.”

Scott raises a confused and amused brow at Theo, and Theo just scrunches his nose.

Liam straightens up from clutching his knees, and his eyes fall on Scott. “Oh, hey, Scott!”

“Buddy,” Scott laughs and pulls Liam in for a hug. “I missed you.”

“Missed you, too,” Liam chuckles, still seemingly out of breath, and when they pull away his hands stay on Scott’s shoulders for support. “Of course I missed you. I missed all of you. But I really gotta go with Theo.”

Theo jerks back in surprise, and Scott’s mouth falls to a small o, but he grins meaningfully at his beta. “Sure, I have to go pick Mom up anyway. And we’ll all see each other on Christmas Eve.”

“Great, great.” Liam taps his alpha’s back a farewell, and Theo stares at the side of Liam’s face whom he knows is purposefully ignoring his eyes. “See you on Christmas Eve.”

Theo says his goodbyes to Scott and quietly follows Liam to his (parents’) car, and he’s forced to stare at Liam’s back because Theo is walking at a _normal_ pace and Liam is technically hopping two steps at a time. Theo knows from the moment they had their call, to Liam’s asshole ditching, and to now, that something is _up_ , but he stays silent the whole walk back to the car.

“Okay,” Theo begins once they’re inside and he’s pulling his seatbelt over his torso. “What is going on?”

“What’s Scott doing here?” Liam asks what Theo knows is him trying to be as casual as possible, even when the beta’s still darting his eyes everywhere _but_ at Theo.

Theo’s eye twitches as another wave of irritation washes over him, watches Liam put his seatbelt on and start the engine. “Well,” Theo says, darting his tongue out to lick his lips, “I had no one else to contact. Otherwise I’d be washing dishes in that coffee shop by now.”

Liam’s mouth twitches in a wince, which Theo knows that it’s because of his “modified calm” tone, as Liam had coined it the second time Theo did it: _a what?_ Theo had asked, and Liam had said, _you—you do that thing where you pretend to sound calm when you’re actually seething._

“Sorry,” Liam says as he starts backing out of the parking lot. “Mason’s … problem is a false alarm, so.”

Theo considers asking; press on the issue more. He chooses to bite his tongue because he knows that after Liam’s bizarre agitation, he’ll tell it eventually. This isn’t one of those times where Liam is purposefully trying to work Theo—that Theo knows exactly why Liam does it, and he also knows that Liam thinks he doesn’t know it—so he decides to drop it.

Theo rolls his eyes, at least.

“For the record,” Theo says, handing Liam the box of his vintage watch, “I was tempted to pay my bill with this—”

Liam’s gaze lands on the box, eyes widening, and _smacks_ the box away.

They both jerk forward as Liam _slams_ on the break pedal, and Theo watches as the box topples down by his feet. The irritation rises back in his chest and he flashes Liam a completely appalled, gobsmacked face.

“What the hell—”

“What the hell, Theo!” Liam beats him to it. “Seriously? Inside a fucking car?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“What is _that_?” Liam points at the box like it’s the most absurd thing in the world.

Theo picks up the box, pulls the lid open, and shoves it right in front of Liam’s face.

“The vintage watch I gave you?” Theo spits sardonically. “The one you lent Derek because he knows a horologist who could make it work?”

Liam stares at the watch and falters, slowly sinking back in his seat. Theo can sharply hear Liam’s pounding heartbeat, can smell the mixture of relief and anxiousness. Theo thinks of asking him again, _what the fuck is wrong with you_ , in a biting tone, but the scent of trepidation reeking off Liam makes Theo inhale a deep breath to settle his nerves. He doesn’t want to make it worse.

“What did you think it was?” Theo asks, narrowing his eyes.

“Nothing.” Heartbeat skips. Liam swallows hard and faces back at the windshield.

Liam stares absently ahead, not making a move to clutch the steering wheel and drive again. Theo studies Liam, his flushed cheeks and slightly heaving chest, before he reaches over and takes his hand in his.

“Seriously,” Theo says softly. “Your heartbeat. What’s up with you?”

“I said _nothing!_ ” Liam snaps, hand twitching but not slipping off under Theo’s. He’s facing his side window, still refusing to look at Theo. “I’m just—bored. We should go bowling or something.”

“Bowling?” Theo chuckles. “Really, Liam?”

“What?” Theo sees Liam’s jaw twitch. “We do that all the time.”

“I know,” Theo whispers, tone softer. He rests one elbow on the armrest console and leans forward so he can reach for Liam properly, so he can cup his chin and make his head turn. He does, and Theo’s stomach flutters at the blue of Liam’s eyes, but Liam’s staring past Theo’s shoulder, throat bobbing. “But really, now? After you ditched me and all of a sudden turning up acting like this? You casually ask me to go bowling?”

“I just—” Liam briefly closes his eyes and exhales through his nose. When he opens them back, Theo’s heart clenches, for some reason, at the rawness of something in Liam’s gaze. “Look, I just really want to spend more time with you. We’ve both been busy with our new jobs lately and now it’s the holidays, and we’re back here in this small town, and by Christmas Eve we’re gonna be surrounded with the pack and families and, I don’t know, I was hoping for something that’s … just us two.”

Theo is silent for a moment, calculating, staring back at Liam’s eyes. He doesn’t bother catching Liam’s heartbeat, because he knows it’s _a_ truth, even if it isn’t _the_ truth that he’s looking for. He lets it go anyway. He wraps Liam’s hand with two of his and brings his knuckles against his lips. He presses once. “Okay,” he whispers. He presses another. “Just the two of us.”

Liam beams.

But as they’re driving back down the road, and Theo’s putting the vintage watch box inside the storage compartment, he pauses. His mind clicks, staring at the box, and when he turns back to Liam the man is absently smiling to himself, clearly oblivious of Theo’s _realization_.

Theo leans back against his seat, one hand still entwined with Liam’s, resting on the console. Theo squeezes Liam’s hand, and _grins_.

*

 _Liam’s going to propose_ , Theo texts Stiles. _But I’ll try to stall him. Plan is still a go._

“Spare!” Liam bellows, and Theo looks up just in time to see the ball knocking down the last three pins. Liam twists around to face Theo, a smug grin on his face, and he wiggles his fingers arrogantly. “Beat me, baby.”

Theo grins, tucking his phone back in his pocket, and plants a swift kiss on Liam’s lips as he walks by him to his lane. “What do I get if I win, hm?” he asks in a humor-laced tone, picking up a ball.

Liam hums and plops down on a seat. He’s carrying a laidback air as he rests the back of his head on his palms and crosses a foot over the other, legs stretched out and mouth curled upwards, fake thinking. Then: “Something useful for a lifetime,” he says meaningfully.

Theo stills, and his mouth twitches as he attempts to avert a smile from breaking into his face. Liam’s eyes turn to slits, and Theo narrows his eyes back, lightly tossing the ball back and forth between his hands.

Their calculating stare-off gets cut off when Theo’s phone vibrates. When he pulls it back out of his pocket, Stiles’ name flashes on the screen. “It’s from work,” he says as nonchalantly as possible, and he nearly pumps a fist in the air when he manages to keep his heartbeat steady.

He hands the ball down on Liam’s lap despite Liam’s bewildered gaping at him.

“Play my round for me,” he says as he presses the answer button, already walking away.

“Kinda beats the purpose of a competition, doesn’t it?” Liam says from behind.

Theo ignores him, and he doesn’t stop walking to the direction of the bathroom hallway, not solely because there’s no crowd, but because he needs to be far enough out of Liam’s hearing; supernatural and all. He looks once over his shoulder, and when he sees Liam’s standing by the lane in a stance and swinging his arm, he presses the phone against his ear.

“Hey.”

“We started decorating without you,” Stiles _greets_.

Theo rubs a hand across his face. “I’m sorry. It’s Liam, he—we’re in a bowling alley.”

“What the hell are you doing in a bowling alley?”

“Listen.” Theo licks his lips and gives another peek at Liam who’s still busy knocking pins down. “Bowling is something we always do together. He _might_ propose here.”

“Of course,” Stiles scoffs, and Theo frowns at _that_ , like Stiles knows something, and there’s shuffling in the background. “ _Lydia, my love, I love you, but let’s not set the party poppers there.”_

“Oh my _god,_ Stiles,” Theo groans. “Party poppers?”

“Look—” Stiles is back on the phone “—it’s Liam Dunbar. He’s not going to propose in a _bowling alley_ , unless he somehow manages to spell ‘marry me’ using bowling balls. That is obviously a distraction while his team works on his proposal, which sucks for them, because it’s actually a distraction for _Liam._ We’re done fixing up, bring him home now.”

Theo clutches his hair in disbelief. “What do you mean his proposal? You _knew_? And how the hell did you finish _that_ fast—”

“Theo,” Stiles says, firm and almost threatening that Theo bobs his throat. “Bring. Him. Home.”

*

Theo doesn’t bring him home.

Well, he _tried_ , but Liam keeps insisting about his rumbling stomach while Theo keeps insisting about his _bad_ stomach that he badly needs the bathroom at home.

“Want me to syphon your pain?” Liam asks him from the driver’s seat, one hand on the steering wheel and the other on his cheek as he rests his elbows by the window, and Theo can irritatingly read the drip of mockery in his tone.

“No,” Theo grumbles and thumps the side of his head against the window.

“Hm,” Liam hums, side-eyeing Theo, and Theo curls his fist to fight the itch of his claws.

 _This is your one shot to pull off the Great Romantic Theodore,_ Stiles keeps texting him. _Bring! Him! Home!!!_

“Fine,” Liam says eventually, and Theo whips his head at him in surprise. “We’ll head home.”

They don’t head home.

Theo pretends to sleep during the ride because he’s supposed to be _sick_ , but instead he falls asleep for real, having woken up at a godly hour in the morning for the goddamn seminar.

So when he flutters his eyes open and sees the sunset has dissipated into a pitch black sky, and instead of houses and establishments, they pass by sections of large, towering trees, he bolts upright from having been slumped against the seat. He knows exactly where they’re heading.

“This is not the way home.”

“I told you I was hungry,” Liam retorts pointedly from the driver’s seat.

Stubbornly, Theo insists, “You said we were going home.”

“I know, but I want to eat, Theo. Gee!”

“ _Liam,_ ” Theo manages through clenched teeth, “we literally passed by a block of fastfood chains and a drive-thru. Couldn’t you have bought from there if you’re _that_ hungry?”

“I was craving for cheese sticks, okay?” Liam says like it’s the most plausible reason to win an argument. “And nobody has it better than Rosa’s Diner.”

Theo just blinks, his mouth dropping open in disbelief, and this time he doesn’t hold back: “You know what, you’ve been oddly suspicious.”

“Me?” Liam laughs wildly, humorless, snapping his gaze back and forth between the road and Theo. “ _You’ve_ been suspicious. Bad stomach? Really? I can’t even sense your pain!”

“You know what I sense?” Theo says, shifting in his seat and twisting the best he can with the force of the seatbelt to properly face Liam. But instead of irritation, there’s a certain flutter of excitement rising in his chest. “ _You_ from the coffee shop, when you said you can come and suddenly you can’t. Mason’s emergency? _You_ turning back up and being in a rush despite your alpha there that you haven’t seen in _months_. You would have stayed some more catching up with him. _You_ inviting me to go bowling. _You_ and your unsubtle episodes of panic.” Theo’s throat clogs up this time, but he swallows it back down hard, and forces out, in a slightly shaky voice, “Let’s settle this once and for all. What—What is really going on?”

Liam stays silent, but Theo can tell the hundred thoughts running in his head, his knuckles white and firm on the steering wheel, half his face shadowed by the moonlight and here and there illuminated by the headlights of passing cars. His heart is thudding _fast,_ Liam’s is too, and at this point they both know they can hear each other’s chests and can sense each other’s salty and sweet flurry of emotions, but neither of them say a word.

Then a pop sound rings from the back, the car rattling and jostling about, and Liam slows down and parks on the side.

“Shit.”

Theo blinks back the blur in his gaze—that he didn’t even realize—and watches as Liam scrambles for his seatbelt and the door. “What happened?”

“I think it’s a tire,” he says as he pushes his door open and hops out.

Theo follows Liam out, walking around the car, and sees the flat, deflated edge of the back left tire. Before Theo could say anything, Liam is already groaning, his head thrown back and hands pressed tightly on his face.

“Fuck,” Liam whines, harshly rubs his face and lets his hands fall to his sides, staring dejectedly at the tire like the poor wheel has sinned against him. “I just … wanted this night to go perfectly.”

Theo smacks his lips and puts his hands on his hips, huffing out a laugh. “You have _no_ idea.”

A bitter scent is caught in the air, and Theo can’t even tell if it’s his or Liam’s. They’re both quiet, Liam still gazing gloomily at the tire, arms limp, and Theo’s just standing and carefully watching Liam. Waiting for the next move.

A car passes by in a swift.

Theo clears his throat. “There’s probably an extra tire here.”

Liam doesn’t say anything, the sharp scent of his emotion turning thick and strong, suffocating, at every second that passes. Theo sighs and opens up the trunk, reaching for the toolbox first.

“Come on, Li, let’s fix this up.”

Theo gets down on one knee by the tire, setting the toolbox down and opening it up, and after a beat Liam exhales _loudly_ before following Theo and kneeling down on one knee by the other side; naturally and instinctively before they could really think it through.

They both freeze.

Theo thinks, _what the hell_ , and there’s a sharp jab in his chest, but it’s a good one. His breath is caught in his throat when he looks up at Liam, who’s looking back just as intense, eyes glimmering. They’re on top of a hill, somewhere in the edge of town, the rest of it a dark backdrop behind the car, illuminated by the rows of decorated houses and LED lights.

Theo forgets about the tire, and the toolbox, and the decorations back in the Dunbar-Geyer household, and the ring, and the nerves. Theo forgets about the rest of the world.

He’s only overwhelmed with the sudden, aching urge to cradle Liam’s face in his hands, to press kisses on the tip of his round nose, to taste and bite the plumpness of his chapped lips, to run his thumb against the thickness of his brows, to nuzzle his nose on the spot under his jaw and above his neck. The aching urge to do it everyday, to wake up to it every morning, to scold Liam for his laundry mishaps, to get annoyed with Liam’s fake attitude but he’s not really annoyed because he indulges it and gives it when Liam asks for ten more minutes in bed, and Theo’s okay with Liam asking every morning for ten more minutes for the rest of their lives.

Theo feels it from the deepest parts of his—of all of him.

He swallows hard, and then he lets out a wet laugh, and Liam does too, their brains clicking into one as the realization comes sinking in. Theo feels something oddly satisfying with the two of them kneeling down, understanding, _connecting_ , like they’re seeing each other again for the first time. It fills Theo’s chest the same way Liam slots the curve of his body against Theo’s form, the same way Liam swirls the right amount of whip cream on Theo’s coffee, the same way Liam comes home first, always, and Theo enters the front door with a shirtless Liam sprawled on the couch of their apartment or sizzling dinner in the kitchen, the same way Liam tumbles on Theo’s back to kick a hunter in the face, the same way the elevator doors open and Liam’s still there, breathing and alive.

There’s no question, but they don’t really need one.

In sync, they answer anyway, grinning with wide, crinkled eyes, on their knees beside a flat tire and the frame of Beacon Hills:

_“Yes.”_

*

“When we said you guys share a single brain cell,” Stiles says, tone dripping with bitterness as he unhooks the large ‘Marry Me’ banner from the wall dotted with pictures of Liam and Theo together that he must have garnered from their Instagram accounts, actively glaring at the newly-engaged couple wincing at the corner of the room, “I was hoping it doesn’t apply to literally _everything_ , oh my god!”

“I’m kinda thankful though,” Mason says from the couch where he’s caressing his stomach. He grins at Liam. “Corey and I at least made use of all those food from Rosa’s Diner, _damn_. Their cheese sticks are really good.”

“Right?” Liam says, and jerks back when Stiles suddenly points a finger at him.

“Do _not_ speak,” Stiles dramatically yells, sounding a choke, and from somewhere around the room Theo hears Lydia’s sigh. “Do _not_ talk. I don’t want to hear the two of you.” He regretfully pulls a fairy light from the wall. “My _wasted_ effort! I hope both of you trip when you walk down the aisle.”

Liam looks up at Theo, and Theo looks down at Liam, faces scrunched in an apologetic wince, but they chuckle quietly.

Liam brings up their entwined hands and presses a kiss on Theo’s knuckle, on _Theo’s_ ring finger; the new home of the Dunbar heirloom.

Theo smiles.

**FIVE YEARS AGO**

“Come on, Liam.” Theo nudges Liam on his foot. “Take a shower.”

Liam lifts his head up from where he’s sprawled like a starfish on the bed to shoot Theo a glare. The boy doesn’t see it, already busy shuffling around Liam’s drawer. Liam thumps his head back on the soft sheets.

“We just took down a battalion of gunned men, Theo. I need sleep.”

“And you asked me to sleep over tonight,” Theo retorts. Something soft lands in Liam’s face, and he peels it away to see a towel. Theo sees his glare this time. “I’m not gonna sleep beside your reeking ass.”

“Hey,” Liam mumbles, closing his eyes again. “You agreed we’d marry someday. My reeking ass comes with the package.”

“That’s fair.”

Theo turns quiet after that, and Liam waits for the sound of the bathroom door clicking shut, but nothing comes. Instead, he feels a presence towering over him and the dipping of the bed. When he opens his eyes, Theo’s knees are on either sides of Liam’s hips, his palms pressed on the bed by the sides of Liam’s head, and his lips are curled up suggestively.

“How about we go shower together?”

Liam grins, rests his hands on Theo’s bare chest, and locks his legs around Theo’s hips. He raises his head to reach Theo’s lips and presses a soft, tingling, swift kiss.

“That is an enticing offer, Theodore,” Liam says. “But you don’t do sex when my parents are here, you can’t fool me.”

Theo relaxes his eyelids, drooping a bit, as he takes Liam’s hand from his chest and gently lifts it up to his face. He kisses Liam’s palm, open-mouthed, and licks. Liam’s throat goes dry, but he doesn’t break his eye contact with Theo.

Theo covers Liam’s hand with his, and presses Liam’s palm harder against his mouth. In a muffled voice, he says, “I’ll keep quiet if you will.”

“ _Jesus Christ_ ,” Liam groans, jerking his hand away and slamming his head against the sheets in frustration. “Fine, fine! Just at least give me a moment to regain my damn energy.”

Theo laughs and pulls away from Liam. There’s a shameful whine that sounded in Liam’s throat at the lost of contact, but he watches him go.

“Better hurry up.” Theo strips off his boxers as he saunters inside the bathroom, and Liam tries to muffle another groan at the chimera’s perfectly rounded ass—the Chimera’s Ass; should be in capital, he thinks, _give it some respect_.

Liam’s _exhausted_ , that much is true. So despite the twitching in his boxers, he remains idle in bed, arms on his sides and feet hanging over the bed, as he blinks lazily and unfocused on the wall, feels the throbbing trauma on his muscles gradually fade off. He hears the shower turn.

Liam’s mind reels in the events of the day, and despite the preposterous encounter with yet another group of genocidal murderers, he can’t help but break into a smile at a certain part. _Five years. Deal, deal. Stay alive, stay alive._

He’s still absently staring at the wall until it focuses on the red and white five-year calendar, plastered between a fictional Greek map and a local band poster. Liam remembers his mother coming home with it days ago, a giveaway from the church gathering in town she’d attended to, found it sitting on the coffee table of their living room, and he asked if he could take it. He pasted it on his wall so he wouldn’t forget to bring it when he starts packing for college, and he’d decided it’ll serve as his basis-calendar for the rest of his college life. He thinks he might forget it still.

Liam sits up and heads to his study desk. He lifts a stack of notebooks and opens all the drawers until he finally finds a red sharpie.

He finds today’s date, except it’s on the fifth year, and encircles it twice with the sharpie.

Satisfied, he caps the pen back, tosses it on his desk, and strips off.

When he enters the bathroom, Theo’s already shampooing his head. Liam closes the door shut with the back of his foot, shamelessly ogling the curve of Theo’s spine.

“What took you so long?” Theo asks, looking over his shoulder.

Liam stands behind him and circles his arms around Theo’s waist.

“Nothing.”

He presses a kiss on Theo’s shoulder.

“Just marked a promise.”


End file.
